


Appease

by lovehotelreservation



Series: Hot Load of Bred [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Breeding, Creampie, Impregnation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-30 19:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13958169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovehotelreservation/pseuds/lovehotelreservation
Summary: Long ago, the divine yet prideful dragon spirit Hanzo clashed against one of the most fearsome samurai to have walked the lands, of which only resulted in his demise and a hatred of the lineage of that accursed swordsman. Now having been reincarnated as an oni, he lives to haunt and terrify the village in his hateful desire to seek his vengeance, the very one you live in. With the well-being and future of your hometown on the line--their turmoil caused by the actions ofyourgrandfather--you, a meremiko, decide it may be best to put this grudge to rest.By any means necessary.





	Appease

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I'm so happy to finally be posting this one-shot here on AO3 at last! This fic holds a special place in my heart by how much of a delight it was to fulfill its prompt! That said, I do hope you enjoy this one~!

For as long as you could remember, you were always told of the dangers of the eclipse. The blotting of the moon was when the oni thrived most. During the days leading up to the event was when they were seen stalking about the lands for a mate in prevalent numbers, their virility at its fiercest thanks to the obscurity of moonlight.

The warning was embedded into your mind, to always remain indoors during the lunar eclipse, to never be caught wandering around in the forest–where oni sightings were common–let alone outside, else expect to be claimed and stolen away from a lonesome demon.

And yet, on this very night, with the eclipse well under way, here you were, at a shrine long abandoned by man and history. Before the altar dedicated to a grand spirit long lost, you were ensnared within the possessive grasp of the oni who was in the midst of ravaging you senseless. His discarded white _hakama_  and _haori_ joined yours–albeit the red and white material tattered to shreds thanks to his claws–in a scatter across the stone floor beneath you. Together, with your nude bodies locked together as one, you continued to desecrate the holy grounds even further than the surrounding forest had done upon reclaiming the shrine over time.

More human in appearance rather than the traditional ogre-like appearance of the oni–save for the two horns protruding from his head–, the demon kept you pinned to the ground with ease by the bulk of his toned, muscular physique. His coal gray complexion was barely illuminated for you to take in by the candlelight currently aflame upon the altar, the scarlet color of his tattoos on his left arm and pectoral reminding you of the eclipsed moon. With low, guttural growls of pleasure released from the pit of his throat and the flash of his piercing white eyes boring directly into yours, the creature who loomed above you was determined to make you his mate.

Not accidentally so.

Not forcibly so.

Willingly.

As priestess to your village, you were prepared to do anything to protect your fellow townspeople.

Were it not for the blood that pumped through your veins, they would not have to be subjected to the consequence of a grudge that lasted for decades. The people of your village did not deserve to be tormented by an oni– _this_ one in particular–, and thus was your insistence to the temple elders to be volunteer to take the burden of his wrath upon yourself.

It would take more than chucked soybeans to ward away the oni that stalked about your village. Decades ago, Hanzo, a once mighty dragon spirit that roamed the land, had quite the grudge against the people of your hometown. As local historians recalled, he was reduced to an oni after a battling against the most fearsome samurai to have ever lived at the time, one who hailed from your village. There was arrogance on both sides, no matter it be divine or mortal. Beyond just a clash of power, pride was at stake, the reputation of the swordsman and the dragon spirit on the line.

What was mightier: the fang of a dragon, or the steel of a samurai’s blade?

In the end, Hanzo lost, but rather than pass on peacefully in his defeat, his fury at the disgrace that was delivered to him only brought forth an intense hunger for revenge. And thus he was reborn into an oni, his enormous yet elegant dragon form reduced to the body akin to that of a human marred by shadow, a being who existed merely and only by his newfound contempt for your village.

But his hatred was at its fiercest towards your bloodline, considering that the samurai who defeated him was your grandfather.

He was determined to wreak havoc for the livelihoods of the village from which that accursed swordsman hailed for as long and as much as possible.

However, by the strict religious devotion upheld by all those who lived in your village–done especially to make up for the past sins of the fabled samurai hero–he was kept at bay for the past decades. In fact, the leading force behind this push to calling upon the protection of the divine gods and spirts was none other than your own father. Feeling guilt on behalf of your grandfather’s actions, your dad turned to prayer rather than the blade, which was how you ended up being raised to be a priestess in the first place.

For the most part, the devout mindset and practices of your village seemed to ensure that Hanzo remained banished.

Up until now.

Truly, prayer could only do so much. Paranoid of one day earning the ire of Hanzo’s vengeance, the current shouya of your village invested a great deal of your town’s wealth–money and harvest yields–into receiving samurai protection from the daimyou he served. The teachings of the sword was practically outlawed in your hometown, in fear that yet another swordsman would be born to take on the divine spirits, a piece of legislature that your father was adamant to enforce.

However before long, there was more going out of your village than coming in. As though cursed, the harvests began to become barren with every passing year. At first, this was merely waved off as a one-off occurrence, but upon autumn time a mere three years ago, the scarce amount of crops yielded made it harshly clear that dire times were ahead.

Now the paranoia overtook your village.

Was this somehow the work of Hanzo? Were they not praying enough? Had the heavens come forth to finally deliver punishment against the people who dared to strike against them?

It didn’t take much time before your village fell into financial disarray, putting much pressure on your shouya to pay off the increasing debt owed to receive protection from the daimyou. In an act of desperation, he ordered for all of the villagers to take to the fields for this year’s harvest, allocating practically all labor and resources into ensuring that the yields would be bountiful. To quell the worries that were understandably had by all, you and the temple were just as dedicated to prayer and various ceremonies to appease the spirits and gods.

To the relief of your village, rainfall was plentiful over the summer, which was an excellent sign for the coming autumn harvest. It seemed as though the joined efforts of all the villagers and that of the temple was proving to have been effective. The anxious atmosphere that lingered over your town for the longest time seemed to have been dissipating at last.

Until you and the head priest of your temple came across arrows lodged into the bottles of sake and other foods that were carefully stored away in preparation for the offerings to be made for the approaching autumn festival, a majority of them embedded into the pomegranates that you were known to cultivate in your house’s garden.

Arrowheads made from the fangs of a bat.

The trademark of the oni Hanzo.

Immediately, you and the head priest alerted the village _shouya_. Without question, Hanzo seemed to have breeched through the protection of both the divine spirits and the samurai. The placement of his arrows were meant to be a warning, a threat to the autumn harvest. Not to mention–as was noted by the village astrologist not too long ago–the soon-coming eclipse was to occur around this year’s festival as well. The fact that Hanzo made extra effort to pierce your pomegranates was sign to even more underlying intentions.

One that resounded well within you.

Considering the unfortunate timing of the eclipse and the autumn celebration, the shouya was fearful for Hanzo’s interference. Furthermore, the overall mood of the village had gone up considerably, a lively and optimistic air having returned to town at long last.

Whatever method was to be done to handle and placate Hanzo was to be done in secrecy.

However, such a solution seemed to be impossible to conceive.

But then you spoke up.

There was a way, you reasoned with conviction, one which may earn the ire and hatred of your ancestors, but one that would at least ensure the future of your village.

It took some convincing, but with no other options left, the _shouya_ and the head priest agreed, also swearing secrecy from your family.

And so, with the festival well underway on the night of the eclipse, you made your way to the abandoned shrine located on the outskirts of your village.

The very one once dedicated to the divine dragon spirit Hanzo.

But now it was the known abode of the fearsome oni of the same name.

Upon passing through the _torii_  and ascended up the steps leading to his shrine, you were soon made aware of noisy grunts and growled curses. At first you wondered if he was terrorizing some poor soul who happened across his home, but as you finally reached the main holy grounds of the altar dedicated to the former divine spirit, you were instead met by the sight of him stroking his cock with furious need.

With the candlelight lit behind him, it wouldn’t be until he was pounding away at your core that you would realize just how thick his girth was.

Aside from the sound of your footsteps and your startled gasp, what made Hanzo lift up his head was your scent. While this was your first time seeing him up close, the same could not be said for him. Of course with years of desired revenge would have him stalk around your village as much as he could to see what the descendants of his most detested rival was up to.

Besides, with just a mere glance at you–candlelit lighting and all–he could tell who you descended from. On that note, seeing you standing so shyly before him, dressed as the very _miko_  who tended to his altar with such dedication and reverence, he only felt the ache of his already intense arousal deepen even further.

“So you’ve come” was his hissed out greeting to you as he rose from where he was sitting by his altar.

He didn’t bother to push his stiff erection back into the pants of his white _hakama_.

You seemed flustered and on edge, but the fact that your feet remained firmly planted on the stone tiled ground was evident of your resolve to be here.

And thus he asked–no, _demanded_ –why you dared to show your face to him, especially on the night of the eclipse.

_“Do you not realize what your presence here tells me?”_

He queried, his voice rough as he stood before you, one clawed hand cupping your chin to ensure that you were looking directly up into his face.

You would need to get used to staring at it after all.

“I do–fully well,” you responded, doing your best to keep your voice as composed as you could. However, your hands reached for his wrist, gesturing for him to release your chin so you may instead guide his hand down to rest upon your bosom. “And I am willing to do as you please–for my village and family.”

The cackle that he barked out was chilling, but what made your skin shiver most was the grin that followed, his sharp, white fangs bared. “Then be mine, priestess.” 

There was a part of you that wished to admit that you were here on _his_  behalf as well. Despite the long tumultuous history he had with your lineage and your hometown, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pity and guilt towards the demon, feeling as though your mere existence was the source of all the turmoil going about, especially that experienced by him.

And so you did not flinch when the claws of his hands tore away at your clothing, even if you were felt embarrassed to suddenly be exposed before his hungry gaze.

Your hands had to be pinned on either side of you to keep them from covering your face when he buried his face between your legs, the rough texture of his fiery hot tongue making you squirm and cry out as he hungrily sought out the taste of your now dripping core. As new of an experience as it was for you, he was successful in making you meekly beg for more once he began to tease your clit by prodding and lightly lapping against it with the tip of his tongue.

Honestly, to hear your plead in such an adorably pathetic way almost made up for those decades spent simmering in his vicious fury.

Almost.

If he was to settle this grudge, he would do so by stuffing your sopping center full of his seed.

And so he did.

The heat of your slick tightness welcoming his thick cock with delightful squeezes, he relished in the feeling of you clinging to his broad shoulders with cute little whimpers. He found it rather precious. As you abided by the life of a _miko_ , this was your first time indulging in intimacy.

Which was fine by him, for he intended to be your last as well.

Your hushed gasps urged him to keep going and not mind your wincing as your body adjusted to his sizeable girth. He could see you attempt to attain some form of composure, as though expressing otherwise would annoy or even anger him. The intent behind doing so was clear: bear through it all for the sake of your loved ones and home.

“Hmph, if you want to assure peace and harmony for your village, priestess, then be my mate,” Hanzo hissed into your ear as he rocked his hips against yours, slowly working his tempo up to becoming rhythmless with primal desire, one of his hands groping at your breasts. “I will already have staked my claim on you once I fill your womb with my seed anyhow. You may as well accept the inevitable.”

As though to demonstrate the genuinely of his proposal, he proceeded to smother your lips with his, the kiss shared between you both gradually becoming something more open-mouthed.

“I find no better satisfaction than to breed my nemesis’s precious descendant,” he rasped out upon pulling away, low rich laughter spilling forth. “He may have slain my divine form, but I shall now claim the remainder of his lineage…!” His hand withdrew from your chest right before his arms encircled around your body. He heightened the ferocity of his thrusts, causing you to mewl and dig into his shoulders while he pounded into your core.

A smirk pulling at his lips, he taunted, “Did you think meager prayer and offerings was enough to keep me away? You beautiful fool!“ A grunt of pleasure escaped him as your core constricted around him further ever so deliciously. “I was merely biding my time until the moon would eclipse as it has done tonight, when your grandfather’s darling heir was ready and willing to take my seed.”

“But your history–!” The words you cried out were broken up by moans and squeals that were simply impossible to try to hold back. Somehow, despite taking on the full brunt of his rough affection, you found pleasure in it all.

Hanzo laughed again with amusement. “A priestess whose conviction and resolve cuts sharper than the very sword that ruined my former incarnation–what’s not to desire and claim to myself?” The word ‘claim’ became stuck in his mind, suddenly finding the urge to devote his attention to sucking upon and marking the soft skin of your chest. Knowing that your breasts would soon grow heavy with delicious milk–all by _his_  doing no less–sent him even closer to the edge of release.

By the hand of your grandfather, Hanzo experienced a forcible metamorphosis from heavenly spirit to degraded demon.

But now, however, he was successful in converting the pure, darling priestess of the local village into his own precious little mate, the very one who was shamelessly begging to be filled by his cock and seed, flushed face and all while promising to remain his as he wished.

It would be cruel of him to deny the desires of his newfound lifelong partner. He was a demon, not a monster.

A few more quick pounds and he was snarling ferociously with satisfied rapture as he pumped his seed inside of your quivering center–the first loads of many for at least this night in particular–all while you clung to him desperately for purchase as you joined him in release. 

Long had he awaited for this moment. Beyond those years thirsting for revenge, he desired you as soon as he witnessed you blossom beautifully into adulthood during those times spent lurking around your village. With the eclipse just a few years from then, the timing couldn’t have been more ideal.

To be loved and craved by a demon.

You would need to build up your endurance before you could properly keep up with him. At least there was all of eternity waiting for you, starting with this night.

He offered you a chance to gain your bearings before he intended on mounting and fucking you from behind, albeit by having you lick his cock clean of the mixed essence of yours and his. Though clumsy and awkward as you were, your enthusiasm was certainly not to be discredited.

With one hand firmly tucked into your hair, Hanzo was smirking with amusement from ear to ear as watched you try to fit as much of his cock into your mouth as you possibly could. His voice low and husky, he rasped out, “Remember this night, precious one–from henceforth you will know the pleasure of being mine and bearing my children.”

Licking his lips, his eyes trailed to between your inner-thighs, admiring the sight of pearl-colored stickiness clinging and dripping down your skin. Thoughtfully, he mused out, “Hmm, though perhaps I have your grandfather to thank. I’ve never known a sweeter pleasure than getting to breed and mate with a human whose mere existence is far more glorious than that of a divine spirit.”

You let out a sound of embarrassment, the vibration of your throat making him chuckle.

What a bountiful harvest this autumn offered.


End file.
